Chapter 1:
**White Fur Pack**
The sky was clear with warm sunlight, the deep blue sky devoid of clouds, as the wedding of Louis William, known as the golden bachelor, and the internationally renowned actress Wendy was taking place at White Fur Pack.
The red carpet, fresh flowers, and the lavishly decorated altar all contributed to the dream wedding that many could only hope to attend.
With the presence of famous personalities and the most prominent stars of the time, everyone was showing off their status.
The bride wore a white saree wedding gown designed by Milan, the world’s most famous designer, enhancing her beauty, making her look like a goddess. At this moment, she could only be described with four words: 'nation-toppling beauty.'
The groom exuded a lazy yet commanding aura, with an arresting appearance that was both luxurious and enchanting. His forehead bore a hint of allure that was impossible to ignore. Every gesture, every move, radiated a noble and elegant demeanor, but these movements only made it harder for the spectators to look away.
The elder asked, "Groom Louis, do you take Miss Wendy to be your wife, to become your Luna, and vow to stay by her side in both wealth and hardship, never to part?"
Louis's thin lips curled up into a smirk, a smile that was both affectionate yet tinged with a hint of indifference.
There was no answer for a long time.
The elder was surprised and asked once more. Wendy looked at Louis in astonishment. She didn’t understand; this was the Louis who had always adored her, so why was he hesitating?
Just when everyone was shocked and bewildered, Louis spoke, "I do!"
Wendy let out a slight sigh of relief, and everyone else also breathed a collective sigh.
The elder then asked, "Miss Wendy, do you take Louis to be your husband, and vow to stay by his side in both wealth and hardship, never to part?"
With a loud bang, the grand doors of the chapel were kicked open.
The light from outside shone in, making the scene even more surreal.
A petite figure appeared at the chapel’s entrance, with long hair tied up in a high ponytail, her face concealed beneath a golden mask.
Dressed in a tight-fitting outfit, she looked rebellious yet fragile.
She appeared as if she had just stepped off a fierce battlefield.
The scene descended into chaos, with everyone clustering together, whispering.
"Who is that?"
A cold smile played on her lips. Suddenly, with a flick of her wrist, a handgun appeared in her hand, aiming directly at the bride, Wendy.
She took aim and pulled the trigger.
The bullet flew like an arrow released from a bow, piercing straight into the bride’s heart.
Her actions were swift, clean, and fluid.
Blood gushed from Wendy’s chest, looking as beautiful as Mandala flowers, the flower of death.
The scene turned into an uproar, with people screaming in terror.
The woman placed her right hand on her lips, suddenly smiled, and blew a kiss to Louis, before turning and leaving smoothly, without leaving a trace.
Louis faintly smiled, a smile that grew even stranger, but his eyes were cold, devoid of any warmth.
Louis leisurely walked out of the chapel.
His white suit stained with blood resembled a white grave adorned with striking red flowers.
He was the darling of the heavens, with a face of unparalleled beauty, as if he were a painting created by a master artist, truly mesmerizing.
No one outside was unfamiliar with Alpha Louis's reputation.
He was known for his strong, decisive, and beautiful ways.
He was a man who could sip red wine slowly while ruthlessly hunting down his enemies without mercy.
Cold, bloodthirsty, beautiful, and alluring, all combined into one.
Today was supposed to be his wedding, but in the blink of an eye, it had turned into a funeral.
The media thronged around him, trying to get an interview.
"Alpha Louis, was your future Luna really shot dead?"
"Alpha Louis, can you tell us who killed your future Luna?"
"Is someone trying to get revenge on you, Alpha Louis? Do you know who is behind this?"
...
The security team escorted him, blocking the fierce onslaught of the media.
Suddenly, Louis stopped walking, and all the cameras and microphones focused on him, waiting for his answer. Under the sunlight, Louis looked as if he were a beautiful, luxurious sculpture, so splendid that it made people feel inferior to look directly at him.
"Get lost!" Louis spat out a single word.
Just one word, not loud, not angry, yet it felt like a cold wind swept through, the temperature around them suddenly dropping. Everyone felt a wave of chills, as if an invisible hand was tightening around their throats, making it hard to breathe.
The bodyguards quickly drove the reporters away, shielding Alpha Louis as he got into a luxurious, bulletproof Lincoln, leaving with arrogance.
"Young Master, the old master has called, he wants you to return to the old house immediately, he is very angry," the assistant beside Louis reminded him.
Louis sneered, "The old man must be puzzled because the one who got shot wasn’t me."
The atmosphere grew icy.
The assistant dared not say more.
"Young Master, this matter is extremely suspicious, I will certainly investigate thoroughly."
In the car, Louis looked back at the chapel, his hand clenched so tightly it seemed like he wanted to crush his bones.
Louis said, "Find out for me, who did this."
Daring to provoke him on such an important day, giving him such a big surprise, he wanted that person dead without a place to be buried.
No matter who it was.
He would make sure she understood the consequences of messing with Louis—how tragic it would be.
...
The Mint Bar was the most luxurious bar in White Fur Pack.
The music was deafening, and the atmosphere was decadent.
On the dance floor, the dancers performed hot, extremely provocative moves.
Cersei Martell sat at the bar, drinking, one glass after another. Irene Watts sat beside her, constantly advising, "Cersei, stop drinking."
"Don’t worry, I’m fine." Cersei waved her hand, signaling Irene to be quiet.
Irene said mysteriously, "We came here to watch a show, if you get drunk, how can you watch?"
The so-called show was watching men perform stripteases, a show that took place here at midnight.
Cersei smiled brightly, her eyes pure, her pupils covered with a layer of mist, "You want to watch, after all, I’m not that interested."
Irene noticed she was slightly tipsy, couldn’t help but laugh and ask, "You’re really not interested?"
"That’s right! Not even a little bit."
"Forget it, I won’t talk to you anymore, I’m going to the restroom, you wait here, don’t wander off."
"Got it."
Irene went to the restroom, and Cersei drank another glass, her bright eyes narrowed slightly, carrying a hint of laziness, yet very seductive.
A flash of light appeared in her eyes, and she smiled as brightly as a flower.
The bar was indeed very lively.
It was a good place to indulge.
She grabbed a glass of wine and staggered toward a quiet corner.
Suddenly, she heard strange noises, someone calling for help. Cersei, holding her glass, stealthily moved toward the sound.
It was a private booth.
Cersei was shocked to see a man and woman in a very intimate position, the woman’s clothes disheveled, the man’s clothes still intact.
The two were oblivious to their surroundings, the woman’s face flushed, her eyes clouded with desire.